It's Your Band Not Mine
by Blueandgreen91
Summary: She never wanted this, she never wanted to be drum major. Afterall it was her band, she should be the one up here doing something she's wanted since freshman year. But sometimes life has different things in mind.


It's Your Band Not Mine

**I don't know where this came from but I couldn't fill out my study guide until I got this out of my head. So here you are. **

My hands sliced through the cold mid-November air as I stood on the podium overlooking the band. The lights reflected brightly off of the mirrors resting on their uniform. The tears streamed down my face as I tried to focus on the music I couldn't hear. I wasn't crying because I was a senior or that this was a last game, I was crying because she was supposed to be up here, not me. It was her band not mine. I didn't deserve this, I never wanted this. I hated the fact of being drum major, I would miss marching too much and it was true I missed marching too much. Silence filled the stadium as I cut off the last beat but I wouldn't be surprised if everyone could hear my heartbeat. It was so loud in my ears, drowning out my thoughts except for the fact that I was the drum major not her. I shakily got down from the podium with tears blurring my vision and causing me to trip over a cord and ran into a judge.

"Sorry." I mumbled wiping away tears. He gave me a reassuring smile before looking concerned at my director and finally walking away.

"I need all drum majors at the south entrance immediately following the next performance." The announcer boomed over the loud speaker filling the stadium. I swallowed the growing lump in my throat and rubbed the tears away.

"Hey, everything's okay Jenny." My band director, Whitney, said but her face showed tears. I faked a smile but it came out more of a grimace. She gave my arm a soft squeeze and a sad smile and helped me lead the band along with Racheal back to the stands. I followed Racheal along the bottom of the stands back toward the entrance to await the results. I looked beside me and saw Racheal trying to keep her face straight but I could see the tears threatening to spill. I let my mind wonder as I stood behind the drum majors on how exactly I got here.

**Four Months Ago**

"Hey Cramer." I yelled chasing after a medium height girl, her black hair bouncing behind her.

"What Jenny?" She said without facing me.

"What's wrong?" I caught up to her and grabbed to her shoulder. She turned around showing her red puffy eyes. "Cramer?" I squeaked.

"I'd rather not say." She said walking swiftly into the band room.

"You have to tell me." I said as we entered Whitney's office.

"Cramer, what's wrong?" Whitney and I said in unison.

"I don't want anyone to know." She said softly.

"It's okay, I'm your best friend and Whitney is like your mom." I said with a smile.

"Cramer, please tell me honey. I don't like seeing you like this." Whitney said pulling her blonde hair into a lose bun before rubbing Cramer's cheek. "Please." She whispered with a worried look. Cramer looked up, more tears spilling over her brilliant blue eyes. I could spend hours looking at her eyes but not like this. In the twelve years I've known her this was the few times she cried. She usually had a bright smile on her face that lit up the room she was in and a joke waiting for you. She started playing with the end of her shirt as she opened her mouth to say something she quickly shut it. This happened several times before she burst out into tears.

"C'mon Cramer, whatever is wrong I'm sure it's not that bad." I said rubbing her back as she climbed into my arms.

"Yeah, sweet pea your drum major, whatever is wrong the whole band will support you because you lead them." Whitney said rubbing her shinny black hair.

"It… *hiccup* is that… *hiccup* that bad." She said between hiccups and sobs.

"What is so bad that is causing you to break down like this?" I asked holding her at arm length.

"I…." She mumbled causing me to not hear the rest of it.

"What?" I questioned.

"I… I… I… have cancer." She spoke breaking down into fresh sobs.

"What?" I repeated again feeling my stomach drop. I suddenly couldn't think and it became impossible to swallow with my dry mouth. Whitney looked confused on who to comfort but apparently I looked worse because she grabbed me.

"Jenny, hey there Jenny let's sit you down." Whitney said through tears.

"You have cancer?" I squeaked through my dry throat.

"Yes and since I can't be drum major, I want you to be. This is now your band." She said strongly.

"I can't be drum major. I hate drum major, I only learned how to conduct because you taught me." I said as Whitney stroked my hair gently. "You have cancer." I mumbled to myself trying to comprehend. It was supposed to be my senior year, my perfect year. Yes it sounds selfish but then again it was senior year, that last time to make a mark. Cramer and I had been dreaming of this since freshmen year, her conducting under the lights and me, the lone Bari sax player but now, now I'm the drum major that never wanted it.

**Four Months Later**

"Ready?" Racheal asked and we formed a line to walk back into the bright lights.

"No. I was never ready for this." I spoke so quietly I barely heard myself.

"No one was ready for it. Sometimes in life all you can do is react." She spoke at the same level I did. It was a blur until I heard our name being called and the stands erupting with screams. I stepped forward and received the first place trophy and the packet. I didn't have a smile on my face or even a slight smirk all that was on my face was tears.

_We just won state. For the first time in eighteen years, we won state. _I thought as the announcer continued on about something that I wasn't paying attention to. I walked slowly with Racheal as the bands slowly dispersed. Whitney met me with a small smile and wrapped both Racheal and I into a giant hug.

As we pulled into the parking lot at school, I felt a nagging feeling that something was wrong. Whether it was the fact that I had been able to sleep the entire time for the first time since freshmen year or that Whitney was gently stroking my hair and humming sadly to herself. Maybe it was the fact that no horns were honking like they normally would be after a big win, it was traditional. But now, something was wrong, something was really wrong.

People shuffled into the band room quietly after the quickest unloading we had ever had at three in the morning. I followed the mob of sleepy band kids into the band room where most were sleeping or laying on the floor.

"Hey guys, I don't think I've been prouder of a group. Winning state guys, now that shows you are something else. You guys are absolutely amazing and I can't thank you enough. Working hard and pushing through, that's amazing, thank you guys. Alright, dismissed drum majors I need to talk to you." Whitney said before walking towards the drum majors closet. I followed slowly behind hear, scared of what would be said. "Hey guys," She started sighing, wiping away small tears. "Look, I didn't… I don't… This…" She stammered tripping over her words. "Cramer died this morning at 1:35 am. She couldn't beat the infection that had been taking over her." She finally spurted out. I should've known when she pulled us away that she was gone. I just didn't think, or let myself think the worst. I felt myself fall into one of the shelves and tears had already taken over my face. I couldn't believe that my best friend was gone.

I never could pull myself to go to the funeral, there was something about seeing her in that casket that made me cry even worse. It was weird, not being able to talk to her or her laugh, see her smile or just be around. I started to feel so alone even thought I was with the band the whole time. Somehow Whitney was able to drag me to the cemetery with her and pulled me to the fresh cut grass and gravestone. One the top was a small picture of her, bright blue eyes contrasting beautifully with her black hair. Written on the tombstone was simple: _Madison Cramer Lendstwone April 2__nd__ 1993- November 6__th__ 2011 Loving Daughter, Sister "__Every man dies. Not every man really lives." - __William Wallace. _

"Why'd you bring me here?" I asked wiping the flowing tears from my face but to no use.

"Because you needed to come at peace with her death." She said and I laughed an awkward and strangled laugh. It was April 3rd right now, yesterday would've been the day she turned eighteen. She did have a point there was something I owed her. I pulled out my baton, white gloves and black whistle from my bag and held them in my hands looking over them before gently placing the on the gravestone. Through teary eyes, I tried to speak but nothing came out, only sobs. Despite the sobs I took a deep breath and looked back at the gravestone. For the first time since July I realized something that I should've said before.

"This was never my band. It's your band, not mine."

**I hope you like it. It took me a while to write but once I got the idea out it was pretty simple. Anyways, I want to know. Have any of you ever had a director change, like for the entire band program? My band director decided to take the job at our rival school because of some reasons. Anyways, I want to know because I want help on how you survived through it and any tips for my band. You can review or PM just, if you have, let me know, help me out. I loved our director and it's weird without her. I'm afraid of who are new director is. Okay, sorry about the super long author note, though I doubt people made it this far.**


End file.
